


Bad Reason

by readtolive



Series: Break my arms around the one I love [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-01 12:55:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13998783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/readtolive/pseuds/readtolive
Summary: Derek sleeps with Stiles because virgins are being sacrificed and he wants to keep him out of harm's way.He loses Stiles in the process.





	Bad Reason

 

 

 

“I took care of that,” Derek says, glaring across the room.

Scott’s face drops in shock. “What?”

The whole idea was ridiculous. Whatever Derek did, there was no way he would have gotten involved with anything even remotely related to Stiles’ case of chronic virginity. What could he have possibly done? Scott’s eyes fly from Derek to Stiles in rapid succession.

Stiles remains stock still, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, fingers clutching around his sharp elbows. There isn’t enough air in the room, he feels.

Lydia frowns.

Jackson leers at the alpha. “What, did you hire him a hooker? Wow,” he drawls lasciviously. “Derek, my opinion about your alpha-ness has just risen up a peg or two. Way to go, boss.”

Lydia smacks him across the arm. “Let’s not joke about this, thank you.”

She turns towards her alpha. “Derek, are you sure? We can’t afford the risk, as I already explained to you in _great_ detail.”

Derek frowns at her, despising this challenge of his competence. He’s not an idiot.

“Yes!” Stiles finally peels himself off the wall, standing awkwardly and looking at no one in particular. He clears his throat. “It’s been taken care of. Virginity gone. A hooker, yes. Or not. It doesn’t matter. Anyway, you don’t have to worry about it anymore. One less problem for the pack, definitely. Can we just drop it now, please.”

He remains in the shadier part of the loft, hoping that his face isn’t burning too much and that the pack ticks off the frantic beating of his heart as typical Stiles embarrassment.

“No, I just need to know if renting hookers is on the pack menu now. I won’t be deprived of my rights,” Jackson grins, ignoring Lydia’s nails digging into his forearm. “What, it’s not like Stilinski’s desperation can be the only reason we can afford regular sexing up. I have my needs, too.”

Boyd and Erica stand up from the couch. “If that’s all… we’re gonna go, boss.”

Erica turns towards Stiles and smiles at him, her locks shaking as she nods her head in clear approval. “You know you could have come to me, baby, I would have gladly helped you out.”

Derek growls at that.

And that is Stiles’ cue to leave. He can’t take another pissing contest right now.

“I have to go, too. My dad… I need to make dinner. Yeah.” He hurries past everyone, ignoring Jackson’s lewd whistle, and flees the loft as fast as he can.

He feels Derek’s eyes burning holes into his back.

He just needs to go, right this very moment, and not look at anyone ever again.

 

\---

 

After a few days of some deep thinking and self-analysis at the privacy of his own home, Stiles decides he isn’t sorry about the entire thing.

He isn’t sorry that it was Derek. He did have this epic crush on the man after all, fantasizing obsessively in both sexual and non-sexual ways about their relationship. Stiles was fully aware that the chances of his fantasies coming to life were less than zero, but that never stopped him. He just couldn’t help it. He used to imagine that Derek was in love with him, finding proof in Derek’s lingering glances, constant little touches and obvious stubborn determination to keep Stiles uninjured and alive at any cost.

Now that he thinks about it, Stiles can’t help but laugh at his own blindness – of course Derek slept with him so that he could keep Stiles out of trouble. Derek is just that kind of guy. He would do anything.

Stiles can’t believe it didn’t cross his mind once when it happened. He was completely blindsided.

In his defense, Stiles did try to ask Derek. They came back to his place together that night, Derek and he, because Derek wanted to make sure he was fine after their night long stake out at the preserve. It had been raining constantly, with Stiles crouching in the bushes with Derek’s jacket as his only cover, trying not to complain too much since Derek spent the entire time in his t-shirt only, looming over Stiles like a protective bear that he is.

So, when Stiles stood shirtless in the middle of his room, shivering and wiping himself with a towel, and Derek planted a soft kiss onto the nape of his neck, Stiles gasped, completely shocked and surprised.

He did turn towards Derek then, in question, wondering, wanting to know, what that was about. He trembled in Derek's hands, feeling stupidly hopeful and achingly vulnerable.

But Derek had this longing look in his eyes, a little bit sad, a little pleading, rain droplets still clinging to his eyelashes, and Stiles thought… he thought that Derek was just as sad as him, for not doing this sooner, for pining, for not acting on this mad crush for whatever noble reasons…

That’s what Stiles thought.

“Derek,” he tried to say, but Derek hugged him then, breathing across Stiles’ cheek, asking Stiles to kiss him in a pleading whisper.

So Stiles did.

It never even crossed Stiles’ mind to doubt Derek’s motives then. He didn’t even think about them, sure that they were the same as his. Mad, mad love.

Stiles made love with Derek for the first time that night, his first time ever, his only time with Derek, as it would turn out later -- and it was even better than his fantasies.

Derek stayed with him until his dad came back from his shift, holding Stiles as if he was something precious to him, and Stiles didn’t even notice the lack of words, explanations, declarations, promises… Derek simply wasn’t a talkative guy and Stiles felt like he said it all with his body.

That night, Stiles really believed that Derek loved him.

 

\---

 

There’s a knock on his window.

Stiles stops with his typing, straightens from his slouch over the laptop, and turns in his chair to see Derek peeking behind the glass.

Calm and relaxed, Stiles stands up and opens the window to let him in. He even smiles a little. “Hey.”

Derek jumps in, but remains standing near the wall, serious and a little crazy looking, if Stiles is to say.

“What’s up?” Stiles tries.

Derek sighs and looks away for a moment, brushing his hands over his jeans.

Looking like he’s steeling himself, he finds Stiles’ eyes again. “How are you?”

Stiles nods. “I’m good, I’m good. Why?”

Derek watches him intently. “You… haven’t been to the loft in a while. Two weeks,” Derek says and looks at his fingers. “Twelve days,” he specifies.

Stiles smiles a little, huffing through his nose. “Sorry about that. I… it wasn’t fully intentional. I needed some time, I guess. It’s… not because of you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Derek looks at him hopefully. “It’s not?”

“No,” Stiles shakes his head.

Derek clutches the wall behind himself. “You’re… you’re not mad?”

“Mad?” Stiles’ eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Why would I be mad?”

Derek blushes, squirming uncomfortably where he stands.

Stiles is a little weirded out. He’s never seen his alpha in less than monumental regalness.

“You have to know,” Derek starts, clumsy but determined. “I—I’m not sorry for what I have done.”

“Okay,” Stiles agrees. “I know. You shouldn’t be.”

Derek relaxes a little. He clearly expected a different reaction. He looks at Stiles curiously.

Stiles thinks this is it, that their conversation is now over. He gave Derek what he obviously came for, an assurance that Stiles is fine with what happened. An absolution.

He expects Derek to leave now so that he can return to his work.

But Derek still stands there. “Are you?”

The question takes Stiles off guard. He understands it perfectly, but he tries to buy himself some time. “Am I what?”

“Sorry.”

Stiles wonders if he should try lying, if perhaps Derek’s too agitated to pick up on his traitorous heartbeat. But then, he decides against it. There really isn’t any reason why he should hide anything. “Yes.”

Derek jerks a little, a flash of hurt quickly replaced by stubborn determination.

He swallows and licks his lips before squaring his shoulders, looking at Stiles defiantly. “Well. I am not going to apologize.”

Even though Derek doesn’t ask him why he is sorry, which Stiles is immensely grateful for, Stiles laughs and looks at Derek fondly. “You’re a good man, Derek. I’m proud to be a part of your pack. Again, you have nothing to apologize for.”

At that, Derek smiles for the first time, a little tentatively, a little shocked, and comes closer to Stiles, putting his hand on Stiles’ shoulder.

Or trying to, because Stiles jerks back as if someone tasered him.

“Hey! Don’t… don’t do that,” Stiles says softly but determinedly.

Derek’s eyes are wide, stunned and luminous. “Are you… Can I – can I kiss you?”

“What?” Stiles frowns, puzzled.

Of all the things he expected Derek to want to do when he came here, that was definitely the last one. The non-existent one.

“Why would you want to do that? I’m out of danger now. Not a virgin anymore, remember? You took care of that, as you said. Your alpha duties are done. Why would you want to kiss me? Jesus,” Stiles is out of breath.

Derek sways in his place, alarmed. He raises his hands in placating motion. “Stiles, I… it wasn’t a _duty_ ,” he breathes out and then blushes again. “It wasn’t _just_ a duty,” he amends. “I – you had to know, have to know that I, that I… for you, that I like you.”

Stiles full out laughs at that, throwing his head backwards, his whole body shaking. He brushes his hands over his face, exasperated. “Derek, I can’t believe it. I don’t believe you,” he shakes his head. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter now anyway. Whatever happened, it’s over now. I want to forget it.”

 _What a clusterfuck_ , Stiles thinks. What is this, this misplaced emotional confession that he really doesn’t want or need right now. It just firms his belief that Derek is definitely not a man for him.

Derek’s eyes stare wetly at him. “Then why did you do it? Why did you sleep with me?”

Stiles feels so tired. He wants this conversation to be over, he wants Derek to leave. He really hates that he has to go through this.

“I did it because I loved you and because I thought that you loved me back. I wanted you to be the one. To be my first. I thought you knew that. I thought you wanted me back at that time.”

“I do, I did, I – do,” Derek gasps out.

“Look… Derek… I don’t want to upset you, or make you feel bad, I honestly don’t,” Stiles tries to keep his voice calm. “But, I’ve been pining after you _for years_ , man. You _knew_ that, I know you did. But, Derek…” Stiles pauses, struggling for words. “You chose a wrong reason to approach me. A spectacularly wrong reason. Mortal peril is definitely not a good one for sleeping with someone for the first time… from my standpoint… of a man in love. But,” Stiles adds hastily. “I really don’t blame you. I don’t. It’s just that… now I know that you don’t really love me. And that helps me to put things, to put my feelings into perspective."

Stiles looks at Derek, trying to will him to understand. "Because if you did, you wouldn’t have done it like that. That would have been the least … loving way to be with me, for the first time.”

Derek doesn’t say anything, so Stiles continues. “I feel kind of cheated in a way, you know. Because that night, I really thought you did. When you kissed me, and touched me, I really thought that you loved me.”

“I – I did, I do,” Derek’s words are barely above whisper, but his chest is heaving in and out in rapid succession. “I didn’t want you to die. I wanted to protect you. Because I do love you.”

Stiles looks at him.

Derek has just declared his love to him, _finally_ , finally… and Stiles isn’t happy.

“Well,” Stiles scratches his cheek. “I have to tell you, Derek, this love declaration from you also isn’t what I hoped for. Had hoped for. Or dreamed about, once. It definitely sounded different in my head for the past five years."

Derek closes his eyes and plasters himself even more firmly against the wall.

"I’m sorry.” Stiles tries to clarify. “It’s really not your fault. See, I wanted to hear it for so long, I imagined you saying it, and it was never… like this. Like an explanation, like an apology, like _you’re saying it to lessen my hurt_. Like you’re not saying it because you want to or need to, but because now you feel like you _have to_ now, pressured by some outer circumstances. And I get it, you did… what you thought was best." 

Stiles bites his lips. "If anything, it was my fault, for having these stupid dreams. I…” Stiles laughs a little. “I really think that Jackson was right.”

Derek raises his bent head at that, weary looking and miserable. “How?”

“You should have hired me a hooker.”

Derek gasps, and closes his eyes again. He wipes at them angrily with his jacket sleeve.

They stand in silence for a while, two dark figures in a dimly lit room.

“Stiles…”

“Go home, Derek. Don’t worry. It’ll pass. Whatever… this is. It was clearly never meant to be. I’ll come to the next pack meeting. Just… go home.”

Derek clutches the window frame, poised to jump out. “I’m sorry,” he says to Stiles over his shoulder.

Stiles smiles tiredly. “Don’t be. I’m… really not.”

When Derek looks at him questioningly, Stiles explains. 

“It was a lovely night, Derek,” Stiles says softly, even though it hurts a little to remember. “Just like I dreamed.”

Derek's face crumples, and he must have let out a sob, barely audible, muffled by the cracking of the window frame under his fingers.

He jumps out and disappears into the night.

Stiles watches him go for a while, sad and melancholy. He really thought they could have been something. Something good. 

Clearly, he was wrong.

He turns towards his computer, sits back down and continues typing. 

 

 

 

the end


End file.
